Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Parting

An old crow pecking
at dead bark,
she rakes lifeless leaves
left over from fall,
as she holds on
to fragments of regret.
Her baby grandson
she couldn’t see once more
before he was shipped to Iraq;
her best friend Joan, unrecognizable
at the old folks home;
her husband’s clothes
she meant to send to Goodwill
after the funeral; and
how could she break
her favorite mug, in rage?
Just the ways of life,
nothing to dread.
But…
her sudden shriek
the unexpected pain…
The rake has cut
into a spring bloom
with abrupt brutality,
a parting so painful
for her soft heart.
“Why isn’t anyone here
to protect the flowers?”